


You don't scare me

by Eye_of_Purgatory



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Arguments, Banter, Brexit, Canon Universe, Cold War mentioned, Dark America (Hetalia), Dark Russia (Hetalia), Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, M/M, Pining, Pining Russia, Powerful America, Smart America (Hetalia), Strong Russia, Unrequited Love, strong america
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23207983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eye_of_Purgatory/pseuds/Eye_of_Purgatory
Summary: Russia has watched America, seen the hidden actions that nobody else could see. But when at a meeting of the Nations Arthur looses his temper, Ivan talks to Alfred about their secrets.“You wish. I’m stronger than your fat ass any day.” Quick as a flash Ivan grabs the gun from America’s pocket, and right in front of his eyes Alfred watches as it crumples. Crumples it easier than Arthur can crumple paper.
Relationships: America & England (Hetalia), America/Russia (Hetalia)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 249





	You don't scare me

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am, writing for a mostly dead fandom, but I got hooked on the Hetalia fandom so like oof. Hope ya like it!

Ivan’s ears prick up as he enters the room, attention catching on the bickering nations notably on the end of the alphabetic list. England and France are arguing while America sits calmly. It is at times like this when Russia is glad he sits just the right distance away from them to eavesdrop.

“Angleterre, you are becoming insignificant.” Ivan internally vomits when he remembers that he used to idolize that disgusting frog, standing just slightly too close to his dear America. America tilts his head back to look up at the men standing.

“Projecting much Frenchie. I’m still important, when in the last fifty years has anyone thought anything more of France but huh, they’re striking again.” England has a face nearly as sour as his cooking, looking at the Frenchman.

“Mon ami, you cannot survive without the European union.” So this is what it was all about, Ivan wondered what could have been driving the two to near yelling.

“You are all weighing me down, without all of you idiots I would be just as strong as I was!” England shouts, France scowls, and Alfred simply looks amused.

“Arthur, quiet down. We are starting the meeting now.” America mutters, voice slow and smooth, far more calm than he ever is. England immediately turns bright red and restarts shouting.

“Shut up you pig!” A stream of quiet kol kol kols exits Ivan's mouth as he listens, but are unheard by the three.

“Hey! Dude, uncalled for.” America stands up, looking England directly in the eyes as he talks. Tall and commanding respect in an unconscious way that makes Ivan swoon, especially with how much his bad posture and strange mannerisms desperately try to hide it.

“So are you, insinuating that I am weak enough to need that blasted union! The only nations who need it are bums like Greece and France.” He wildly gestures, and slowly but surely more nations join Ivan’s peanut gallery of watching them yell.

“I said nothing! It was Francis.” America throws a pleading look around to everyone nearby, none meet his gaze but Ivan, though when the two make eye contact Alfred quickly looks away.

“Oui, I do think that you need the European union Angleterre. And do not be selfish enough to believe that even if you could survive outside of it, that you wouldn’t hurt the people still there.” France’s voice is steady, but angry enough to bring back sour memories to all of the countries he’d fought in the past. Including Russia, not doing the slightest to waive his current mood.

“Why on this blasted earth should I help a wanker like you! The only bloody thing that union does is security theater, and I am here to actually protect my people! Not like a complete tosser I know, I actually care!” England is screaming by now, flipping off France as America desperately tries to calm him down. Ivan finds himself glaring daggers at England, who dares to be that rude for such a desperate nation, not that anybody looks over to see him do so. 

“Iggy, you need to calm dude. No need to argue here.” Nobody notices the uncharacteristically diplomatic actions of America, except for Ivan that is. The only one who could compete with Ivan in every way, and Ivan could not want him more.

“This is just because you believe what that bastard France does! You just think that you’re better than I am, you aren’t in the union and you are doing just fine!” One of the pathetic former soviet states tries to grab Ivan’s attention, but he is far too gone with watching this to hear.

“Dude it’s the European union. Of course i didn’t join, America isn’t in Europe. And by the way, the USA is awesome! Of course we can survive without some petty EU.” He flashes a Hollywood smile, and Ivan marvels over how he only grows calmer the more others grow angry. It makes Ivan want to just rile him up, watching as the tranquil blue eyes fill with gorgeous fire.

“Thank you Amerique.” France bristles slightly, but overall wears it out with a smiling grimace, and America slaps his hand on France’s shoulder and England’s arm. His attempt to bring them together is a failure though, England ripping from his grasp.

“If the EU is petty then why do you want me to stay in it!” England yells from a small distance, truly loosing all that had kept him calm, resorting to screaming like an angry preteen.

“I never said anything Iggy! What are you talking about.” One would not be able to tell that England was the elder, the one who raised America.

“By agreeing with that bastard France!” Desperate gestures follow, but Ivan can barely see over his burning anger. One does not simply waste a connection that Ivan so desired with America.

“Rude.” The comedic intentions did not follow.

“All I am doing is asking you to ca-” England’s fist slams into America’s face, but he simply stands there. Putting a hand up to his face as England has the audacity to show no guilt.

“QUIET!” Germany shouts, and at this Britain shuts his fat ugly mouth. The room turns from the commotion to look at Germany, desperately trying to gather attention for the meeting that they were all supposed to be doing.

-

When the meeting stalls for the mid morning break America is up, walking away within moments. Ivan follows him down a hallway that both know leads to nowhere.

“Why are you following me dude?” America shouts as he reaches the end, which is only a bench and potted plant. Ivan can only marvel at the intelligence the architect thought he had.

“Not gonna say anything? Weird man, that's pretty weird.” Alfred jokes around, as Ivan steps closer, but neither seem to notice.

“You can feel it too, da?” Russia places his hand right next to the head of America, effectively pinning him to the wall as he practically leers. The mood changes in a flash.

“Get out of my face, you asshole. I have a football game to go to and it’s not that European crap you call football” America’s hands are placed on Russia’s chest, but when all they deliver is a half hearted push, well. Ivan tries not to fall into hysterics.

“You are strong enough to push me away yourself.” He says instead, keeping his face into a small smile that he knows makes Alfred squirm.

“Yeah so go away ya big lug before I have too.” His smile is there but tinged with hostility, flashes of the cold war flash by and Ivan wants nothing more than to capture those lips with his own because of it. Alfred is never more tantalizingly desirable than when he is true to himself.

“But why hide? You can feel it, how much the little weaklings would crumple with one solid hit.” The other hand pins America in from both sides, but his ever so lickable adams apple doesn’t move at all. The hostile eyes just stay locked on to Ivan’s.

“Francis and Iggy aren’t that weak dude. You’ve got that ego in that soulless brain!”

“Nyet. They’re past their prime, remember when they could pound us into dust?” The words are whispered right into America’s earlobe, and Ivan just manages to resist the urge to bite down, pulling away .“But we can do the same now. You didn’t bruise,” Eyes flicker to the spotless cheek where barely hours ago Arthur’s fist collided.

“Still hurt like hell dude.” Alfred’s hand flies to his cheek but Ivan snatches it out of the air without a struggle, holding his hand to the wall.

“You exaggerate мой любовь. And we’re the only ones who know. They don’t know what you can do.”

“Yeah I forget my own strength sometimes!” He rubs the back of his head with his other hand, and Ivan knows, he can see right through IT, “Crazy isn’t it?”

“I am as strong as you Da?” In the eyes that Ivan wants to steal and keep in a jar, a furious competition flurs across, a fire in his eyes that is matched almost immediately in Ivan’s. He steps forward, nearly lying his body on the other’s.

“You wish. I’m stronger than your fat ass any day.” Quick as a flash Ivan grabs the gun from America’s pocket, and right in front of his eyes Alfred watches as it crumples. Crumples it easier than Arthur can crumple paper.

“Da, and you can feel it too. Maybe more than I, the burning under your skin when you know that you can rip the teeth out of those delicate children with less than the amount of effort to greet them. Shooting them would be too quick, da? You want to watch them bleed.” The confliction in Alfred’s eyes is unbearable bittersweet in a way, for out of the many expressions Alfred makes this is the only one that Ivan doesn’t love. Like this he looks small and when he does, Ivan doesn’t want to be the only tall one.

“You don’t know anything.” He sighs, letting shoulders drop almost in a defeated way, practically asking for Russia to pounce on the weakness like either would have years ago. But this isn’t the cold war, and Russia, well Russia finds that now he cares too much.

“They insult you the worst of all, but do they know what would happen if one day you broke? Like me? There wouldn't be a body to find.” Ivan knows that England deserves it, if It wasn’t Alfred’s duty Ivan would have killed the british vermin already. Each taunt, each jeering comment, each biting word makes Ivan want to turn back on that and strangle until a face turns blue and looses breath.

“You know nothing.” America must feel the burning of Ivan’s aura too, with how much it seeps into the air tinged with lust.

“I know you act stupid, when you’re not.”

“Are you calling me stupid?” When America stands up with pride he stands up far closes to Russia, breathing the same air and faces barely touching. Neither the one to back down and step away first.

“No, wonderfully smart, мой дорогой. So smart you know to hide.” The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, like the cold war tinged with something different.

“You don’t know me, you just think some cold wa-” Alfred gets flustered when Ivan places his hand over the other’s mouth. Flustered in a way both angry and calm in such a strange way, unnatural. Ivan figures it must be a side effect from hiding one’s true nature for so long.

“But I do, and that’s what scares you.” When Ivan finishes his words he removes the hand from Alfred’s mouth, placing it back to the wall.

“You don’t scare me.” And Alfred’s face is back to an animalistic grimace, like Ivan was nothing more than the scum of the earth. 

“And that’s wonderful, the only one. But the rest are fools, they fear me and not you.” But with Ivan's words it's back from give to take, where Alfred simply looks so delectable and dangerous, skin close and soft enough to touch.”

“You could give a rock nightmares.”

“I wasn’t the one to drop the bombs.” There is barely a moment of silence before a wild punch throws Ivan across the room like a twig snapping. His skull cracks, but Russia is far too stubborn for that to do anything more than phase him, in fact it pulls him far closer to temptation.

“I have atoned for those crimes.” America stands without having moved still in the corner of the room, his breath barely catching on each word. Cold and strong and unlike every other flash in his eyes when France harrases him or England treats him like a colony, this spur of emotion doesn’t fade instead leaving a small smoldering ember left.

“I can see it in your eyes dear America, how much you want to, with every waking breath.” Ivan stands up, using each step to take back the space in between them, walking as a man on a mission.

“You don’t know me.” Alfred crosses the rest of the distance, meeting each other at the center of the room, a snarl on Alfred’s face. Quickly Ivan presses himself against the other, capturing his mouth in a hot kiss that leaves him aching for more, more, so he just takes. 

-

  
  
  


The room is unnaturally quiet when the doors open, the tense atmosphere breaking in a sort of way. England almost looks happy, if not guilty.

“America! Did you accidentally cut yourself on a butter knife or something?” England looks at America, who walks in with fingers just lightly sprinkled with blood. Germany looks up from his spot, eyes widening slightly at the sight, but soon looks away.

“England, I’m not in the mood for this right now.” England looks over at his younger brother, noting the sour look and complete lack of cuts. A shadow almost seems to emanate from the unusual posture, the focusing eyes, the way he breathes.

“Mon ami, what is the blood?” America startles heavily as France speaks from behind them, neither having heard the man walk up behind them. France places a hand on his shoulder, a mockery almost of earlier.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” The small smile flashed almost seems, Russian, in nature.

“We will start the meeting when Russia returns.” Germany mumbles, seemingly knowing what has happened. Within the time it takes for the sound to reach the brain America is already talking.

“Don’t bother.” 

**Author's Note:**

> (1) - мой любовь - my love  
> (2) - мой дорогой - my dear
> 
> Tell me if I messed up on the Russian bits, I used google translate. I hope people like this, but It's pretty rare anyone reads this because Hetalia is a dead fandom. Id love if anyone were to tell me what tags I should use, I don't really know rn.


End file.
